


Complicit

by Sarahtoo



Series: Phrack Fucking Friday [17]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Continuation, F/M, First Time, New Relationship, Phrack Fucking Friday, VERY belated, and firesign wasn't gonna do it, but deedeeinfj started it, i'm just helping out a bit, it needed doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 22:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13622790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahtoo/pseuds/Sarahtoo
Summary: So Fire_Sign wrote that delightful story, "With a Deeper Instinct," for the February quote. And I was all ready to just let my imagination fill in what came next, but then deedeeinfj wrote the equally wonderfulNo Unreasonable Offer Refusedas a follow-up, but only took the story so far. I'm sorry, but this WILL NOT STAND. I had to have the smut. So I'm jumping on this bandwagon, uninvited but hopefully not unwelcome, to give a bit of what might come next.Those two managed to include case details in theirs. Fair warning: I didn't.





	Complicit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fire_Sign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/gifts), [deedeeinfj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deedeeinfj/gifts).
  * Inspired by [With a Deeper Instinct](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13612209) by [Fire_Sign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/pseuds/Fire_Sign). 



> AO3 would only let me say this was based on one fic, but it really does require knowledge of the second, so you should read them both first or this one may seem like it's coming out of nowhere. You do you, though. (Oh, and I'm gonna also consider this as a very belated PFF entry - I was out of town last week, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that Friday fucking is important.)

Phryne smiled as Jack’s hands slid around her, one tugging her leg higher to allow him to nestle his hips between her thighs. His other hand, now shot of the damning letter she’d found in the commissioner’s room, moved up to hook around the back of her neck. Reminding herself that they were just on the other side of a door from a public hallway and they were undercover, besides, she licked her lips—they’d need to be quiet, at least until they moved farther away. She didn’t care, particularly, but she thought the idea of being overheard might mortify her inspector.

“And what are you offering, Miss Fisher?” The words were a rumble close against her chest, his body warm where it pressed into hers.

Phryne’s hands dropped to his waist to pull him even closer, thrilling to the hard length of his cock nudging against her sex. 

“I had thought I’d suggest a night in my bed, inspector,” she purred, leaning forward to take his lower lip between hers, her tongue sliding along its smooth inner surface. Jack’s fingers on her thigh squeezed, and he pulsed his hips against her. 

“Only the one?” His hand stroked down her neck to splay against her shoulder, his thumb stroking the edge of her neckline.

“Well, that will depend,” she murmured, tucking her heel around his hip to keep him close and beginning to undo his many, many buttons.

Jack’s eyes fluttered shut as he captured her mouth with his own. Phryne could feel her body, loose and wet with pent-up desire, molding to his.

“I must insist that I get at least as much pleasure out of our encounter as you do.” Buttons finally freed, she pushed his upper layers backward off of his broad shoulders, uncaring that they didn’t go far, tangled in his braces and still fastened at his cuffs. It didn’t matter; she finally had her hands on his skin—her dour inspector wore no undershirt, and she thrilled to the feel of his muscular chest beneath her palms.

“I think that can be arranged,” Jack rumbled. His hand on her chest dropped to cover her breast through the thin material of her gown and Phryne sucked in her breath at the sensation. He kissed her again, his tongue sliding hotly against hers as his fingers rolled her pointed nipple. “In fact,” he breathed the words against her lips, his hand sliding down her belly to tug her skirt higher, “I think a small demonstration might be in order, don’t you?”

“It’s always wise to allow a trial,” Phryne panted, feeling his hand dipping under her skirt to cup her sex. She knew that it wouldn’t take much for Jack to send her over. Her body was already weeping for contact with his after so many months of waiting and wanting. Add to that the fact that she’d _missed_ him, dammit, and—

“Oh!” The sound was inhaled on a gasp, a reaction to the solid intrusion of one thick finger into her body. He covered her mouth with his own, muffling the soft groan that escaped her as he fucked her with his fingers, his thumb circling the sensitive spot at the front of her body; now a second finger joined the first, and Phryne’s fingernails bit into his bare shoulders, her mouth wide against his as her hips began a helpless counterpoint to his thrusting fingers.

One thrust, two, and he pressed his fingers deep inside her, his palm pushing strongly against her clit. Phryne came with a cry that he swallowed, a shattering of tension that broke her apart and put her back together again, not quite the same. This was Jack, _her_ Jack, and his clever hands. She’d thought, in the many fantasies of their eventual coming together, that he was the kind of man who would see to his partner’s pleasure, and she’d been right. 

He lifted his head, his lips smeared with her lipstick, and Phryne met his eyes, so determined. His reddened mouth smirked, and she felt the stirrings of a need to make him come apart just as completely as she just had.

With a hard kiss, she pushed him back, ignoring the shock on his face, and crossed her arms to lift her dress over her head. His expression when he realized that she wasn’t through with him was delighted, then almost worshipful as he ran his eyes over her body.

“Clothes off, Jack,” she said, her voice quiet due to their proximity to the hall door. “Now.” Holding his eyes, she pulled off her shoes, then began rolling her stockings off her legs.

Without a word, Jack complied, kicking off his shoes—they were, Phryne realized, those same brown loafers he’d worn in Melbourne, and she felt her heart squeeze at the familiarity of them. Within moments, they were both nude, and they stilled, each taking the other in.

“Phryne,” Jack whispered, one hand reaching out to her, his hand held palm up—an invitation.

“Jack,” she responded, her tone tender. She slid her palm against his, accepting.

He reeled her in, and the first touch of skin on skin sent a shudder through them both. Phryne slid her hands up and around his shoulders, pressing her naked breasts to his chest. He wrapped one arm around her waist, just as he had that day at the airfield, and his other hand cupped her head as he pulled her in for a kiss. Their mouths met, and the fire between them flared again. 

Jack lifted her off the floor and took the last steps to her bed, turning back again to seat himself on the edge. Phryne set her knees on the mattress beside his hips, opening herself up to him, his hardness slipping in the copious moisture between her thighs. It was the work of a moment to change her angle and take him inside, his wide head stretching her already sensitive tissues. She held his eyes as she settled onto him, relishing the long moments it took before he was fully seated. Once he was inside, she stilled, letting her body adjust; his cock was big, its shaft wide, and she wanted to wallow in the feeling of being so very full. She knew that she’d feel him long after he’d left her body, and the idea thrilled her.

Phryne slid one hand up the back of his head, loving the soft brush of the short hairs there; she watched his face, wanting to see his pleasure as it came. Jack stared back at her, a flush high on his cheeks, his mouth slightly open. His large hands shifted on her bottom as she gently circled her hips against his, fingers kneading her soft flesh. He licked his lips, glancing down her body; with a tilt of his head that somehow said “how can I resist?” he dipped his chin to take her nipple between his lips. Phryne hissed and arched her back, giving him easier access. He took it, opening his mouth against her, sucking her small breast into his mouth with a groan.

Phryne caught her bottom lip between her teeth, the dual sensation of his cock buried deep inside her and his mouth on her breast an exquisite torment. Lifting her hips, she began to move against him, slowly at first, an inch or two at a time. With a mumble, Jack switched breasts, the lipstick she’d transferred to his mouth now trailing across the pale skin of her chest.

“You taste so good,” he whispered. He curled his hips up into her as she descended onto him, and Phryne whimpered with the additional pressure. 

“Jack,” she cried breathlessly, the small movements their position allowed suddenly not enough. She needed more—more pressure, more speed, just _more_. “Please!”

With a grunt, Jack slid a hand up to her back and rolled, pinning her beneath him, her hips on the edge of the bed. His feet found purchase on the floor and he stood, centering himself between her thighs with his hands braced beside her on the mattress. He began his own rhythm, his cock sliding into her in long, leisurely strokes that drew gasps of pleasure from deep within Phryne’s chest. 

Her hands on his forearms—strong, corded muscle that shifted as his hips moved—Phryne brought her knees up, resting her heels alongside her hips, her legs wide. In this position, his strokes grew stronger, felt deeper, and Phryne could feel her climax beginning to build again. Lifting one hand from his, she slid it down her belly and between her thighs.

Jack sucked in a harsh breath, his eyes on her hand where she played with her sensitive clit as his cock slid slickly into her body again and again. Levering himself sideways, he stroked up her belly to cover her breast with one hand, pinching her nipple between his first two fingers as his hips gained speed. Phryne watched through slitted eyes, her head tilted backward, as a drop of sweat rolled down Jack’s temple, clinging for a moment to the hard line of his clenched jaw before dropping to her hip, a cool counterpoint to the steamy heat they were generating.

“Phryne, I… I’m not sure I can…” Jack’s voice was so low as to be almost inaudible, and Phryne shivered at both the tone and the content of his words. His hand on her breast squeezed in time to the pumping of his hips, the pinch at her nipple a delicious note in the building tension within her body. Groaning softly, Jack paused, his cock buried deep, his jaw working with the effort of holding back his orgasm.

Opening her eyes, Phryne met his bold blue gaze. Lifting the hand from her sex, she caught the one he had on her breast and dragged it, unresisting, down her belly and between her legs. 

“I’m close,” she said softly, guiding his fingers over her slick flesh. She gasped as he began to rub, his index finger circling as he pulsed slowly against her. “You feel so good, Jack,” she moaned, her back arching at the sensation of his fingers on her clit, the muscles and tendons of his hand rippling against her fingers. “So good…”

With a low groan, she arched as climax rolled over her, a slow wave of release clenching her inner muscles around his impaling flesh. Jack cursed, pulling out to spill himself against her belly, his seed hot and sticky and so very welcome. 

Phryne pulled him down, his stomach resting warmly against hers as she took his mouth again, this time with the sweetness that comes from exhaustion.

“You were worth the wait, Jack Robinson,” she whispered against his mouth, her fingers stroking his chest.

“Does that mean that I get more than one night?” The humor in his voice called a smile to her own lips.

“As it’s barely past dawn,” she began, ignoring the soft bark of laughter that escaped from him—breakfast had been served at nine—“I’d say we’re still within the parameters of the first night. We’ll have to see how you perform over the next…” she lifted his hand to peer at his watch, “twenty hours or so.” 

“That’s a tall order, Miss Fisher,” he said, his arms sliding around her.

“Well, I expect that we’ll have to do something other than this for some of that time, but still,” she grinned at him, “you’re already two to one—I have no doubt you’ll acquit yourself nicely.” She pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, enjoying the way he wrinkled it in response.

“Have I told you how pleased I am that you were invited to this party?” His words were innocuous enough, but his voice stroked her skin, its meaning clear.

“Well, I have been told that I’m entertaining.” She stroked a hand down his back, loving the satin smoothness of his skin. 

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he murmured, and kissed her again as she laughed.


End file.
